Long Night
by SilentListener25
Summary: Some of the people Shawn put in jail want revenge. And teaming up isn't out of the question. Warnings : Inclusion or mention of Kidnapping, torture, violence, harsh language and blood. Slight Shassie if you look closely but it wasn't intentional. No other intentional ships or sexual content.
1. Four vs one

_AUTHOR NOTE :_

 _Welcome to my first Psych fanfiction! I appreciate even the fact that you were interested enough to click on the title. So, I hope you enjoy and please let me know via the reviews what you think. Be as vague or detailed as you like. Also, I always find the beginnings of stories the most difficult so, if you have the will to continue reading, it will get slowly better. I promise._

* * *

Shawn, Gus, Juliet and Lassiter exit the Santa Maria Discovery Museum, meandering to a halt at the top of the large set of steps.

"Another case solved…" Sighs Juliet in content.

"We should get back to the station, file up the reports and –."  
"I'm sensing something!" Shawn exclaims, throwing his hands in the air.  
Juliet leans forward slightly. "About the case?"  
"No... This is something different." Shawn decides, frowning slightly.  
Lassiter rolls his eyes. "If this is another joke about me-"  
"Hush, Lassie." Shawn snaps.  
Lassiter quiets, too surprised by Shawn's seriousness to be offended.  
Shawn's head flicks to his right, then his left, and finally straight ahead. His face whitens dramatically and his hands fall to his sides. He turns to Lassie, stuttering ever so slightly. "Hey, Lassie? If you were trying to, you know, shoot someone a- and you missed... What would you do then?"  
"Keep shooting." Lassiter replies honestly, confused by the question.  
"I thought so." He mumbles, before pausing. "I'm about to be in a lot of pain."  
"What -" Gus begins, before being cut off by a gunshot.  
Shawn immediately falls backward from the impact, clutching his right shoulder.  
"Shawn!" Yell Gus and Juliet.  
Lassiter stares at Shawn for a moment before reaching for his gun. He turns to Juliet, intending to tell her to do the same, when he sees her, as well as Gus, lying on the ground next to the shuddering Shawn. He turns back to the assailant before feeling a sharp pinch in his leg. He looks down, swaying, and sees a small dart pinning the material of his trousers to his skin. He promptly collapses.  
Shawn grinds his teeth, seeing his friends drop around him. 'Were they shot, too?' He wonders, not remembering hearing more than one shot. He turns his head to see the shooter talking with someone, pointing over to him. Looking around some more, his eyes first fall on Lassie. He forces himself to crawl the small distance to him and puts his hand to his neck. Feeling a pulse, he takes his hand away and sighs slightly in relief. His friends are okay. He then sees Lassiter's gun, half out of the holster. He reaches but gasps in pain as a foot lands on his hand. He manages to pull it back and look up. It's him! He was... He was one of the criminals from a case he worked on. "G - Griffin Mahoney?" Shawn croaked out.  
'Griffin' looks down at him, momentary confusion on his face. "You remember me?"  
"Of course, quartermaster."  
Griffin seems conflicted for a moment before shaking his head. He turns to Lassiter and holds up his gun. Shawn's eyes widen and he feels around with his throbbing hand. His fingers brush over a rock half the size of a golf ball and he grabs it. Without even thinking, he throws the rock at Griffin. Finding its mark, the rock hits the man square in the face.  
Griffin is sent slightly sideways, his gun still going off. The bullet hits the ground behind Lassiter.  
Shawn lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding. Lassiter may be kind of an ass sometimes, but he's still an okay guy.  
Shawn's exhale is cut off as he gets harshly kicked in the stomach. His ribs protest as he gets kicked again. Griffin seethes with anger and points the gun at Shawn. "You're going to regret that, sonny."  
"Griffin! Comes a shout from behind Shawn. "We need him alive, remember!"  
Griffin clenches his jaw and kicks him again.  
"You're lucky we need you."

"Not sure that's the right word." Shawn grimaces, curling in on himself in an instinctual attempt to protect his now fragile ribs from further damage.  
A woman jogs up, holding a gun. She gives a stern look at Griffin. "Have you forgotten the whole reason we're doing this?"  
"No. He's just so infuriating."  
The woman turns to Shawn, who looks up at her.  
"Raylene?"  
She squints her eyes slightly before crouching down next to him, turning her head. She places her hand gently on his injured shoulder and smiles. "Be smart and do what we say." Then, she scowls. She tightens her grip, pushing her thumb into the wound. "Not that you have much of a choice."  
Shawn grinds his teeth, giving her a determined glare. He then perks his head up ever so slightly, pretending to hear something. "Is that sirens?" He lies.  
Her face tightens in panic and she let's go of Shawn, springing to her feet and turning to Griffin. "Bring him. Hurry."  
She runs down the sets of stairs, toward a van. Griffin moves to Shawn and hurriedly grasps his arms, pulling them both back and dragging him. Shawn gasps as his wound and ribs are jostled and fresh blood oozes from the bullet hole. He curses himself for only being able to think about the future of his shirt, which is very quickly being soaking through with blood. A few moments later, he's being stuffed into the back of the van. The door is slammed after him and Griffin disappears from view. The engine bursts into life and the van moves forward.

Juliet's eyes flicker open. Her mind is foggy for a few moments before she realises what happened. She gasps and jumps up. Her limbs ache slightly as she shakes off the last of the tranquilliser effects. She looks around to find herself still on the ground outside the building. Once she spots two others alongside her, she quickly wakes them. Gus immediately panics.  
"Where's Shawn?!" He spins around, futilely looking for a sign of his friend. "SHAWN!" He shouts.  
"Gus, we'll find him." Juliet assures him, brushing herself off.  
Lassiter takes out his phone, already beginning to stride away.  
"Detective?!" Gus exclaims. "W - Where are you going?"  
"To the station, of course. Come on."

Lassiter rushes into the station, Gus and Juliet hot on his heels. He slams open the door to the chief's office and comes to a halt in front of her desk. She looks at him in surprise. "What happened, Lassiter?"  
"We were attacked, chief. They shot Spencer, knocked us out and took him."  
"Took him? You mean, he's been kidnapped? With a gunshot wound?"  
"Yes." Confirms O'Hara.  
"Let's get right on it." Karen says, getting up from her chair. "Everyone I can spare will be included. Hopefully -"  
She is interrupted by the loud ringing of a phone.  
Gus pulls out his mobile from his pocket and looks at the caller ID. His eyes widen. "It's Shawn!" He yells, holding it out in panic.  
She points at the chair in front of her desk. "Sit down, answer it and put it on speaker phone! Hurry!"  
Gus complies, and sets the phone on the table. "S - Shawn?"  
"Gus." Whispers Shawn from the other end.  
"Shawn! Oh my God! Buddy -"  
"Shh... Heh. They forgot to take my phone. Idiots."  
"Do you know where you are?" Asks Lassiter, stepping up to the phone to be heard.  
"Oh, hey Lassie." Shawn mumbles, nonchalantly. "I'm... In a van. They're still driving. It's somewhere around East Donovan Road right now."  
"How do you know? Did you see a road sign?" Juliet questions, her eyebrows lowered.  
"No... To be honest, I got lost around East Alvin, but the sounds of the traffic led me back to North Miller."  
"You memorised the streets of Santa Maria?"  
"I looked at a map a few weeks ago."  
"And you remembered?!" Exclaims Juliet, shocked.  
"Sure. I- Ah!" Shawn's voice muffles slightly as he clenches his teeth from the pain.  
"Shawn? Are you okay?" Asks Gus, worry etched on his features.  
"Yeah, this is a fake bullet wound." Shawn chuckles lightly. He then forces himself to stop. "And possible fractured ribs."  
"What? Fractured ribs? How did that happen?!" Demands the chief.  
"Oh, hey chief. How are you today?" He asks, sounding overly cheerful.  
She opens her mouth, unsure if it was rhetorical. From Shawn's silence, she decides it wasn't and hesitantly answers. "Uh, I'm fine."  
"Good. That's good."  
"Anyway, the ribs? How did that happen?"  
Shawn sighs, obviously avoiding the question. "Does it even -" He cuts himself off as the van grinds to a halt. He whispers. "It's stopping. I think we're near the North Broadway Plaza shopping centre. They -"  
His voice gets cut off and the phone is dropped as the back of the van is opened. There's fumbling and protests from Shawn before a pause. A loud, but muffled pained grunt echoes through the speaker. Everyone in the small office stares, panicked, at the phone.

Shawn tries to shout through the gag as he is roughly pulled alongside Griffin. His arm bursts with another round of pain, eliciting an involuntary whimper. After a few minutes of intolerable motion, Shawn is brought into a small empty building. He looks around, recognising it slightly. The gag slips, freeing Shawn's mouth. They pass through a metal gate, like a jail cell, into an even smaller room. Two others were waiting.  
"You took your time. We got back ages ago." Sneers a young woman with black hair.  
"Yeah, what took so long?" Questions the other man angrily.  
"Alice Bundy and Robert Dunn." Shawn sighs, confirming his thoughts aloud.  
"I'M NOT ROBERT!" The man yells, striding forward and punching him.  
Shawn is sent sideways, before being pulled back upright by Griffin, who readjusts the gag. "Stop with the dramatics." Griffin scolds.  
He pulls Shawn further into the room. They reach yet another door, this one being full metal, like the door to a safe. Alice follows behind them.  
"What are you waiting for?!" Griffin spits. "I can't hold his wrists forever!"  
She scowls before leaning into the empty corner nearest the door. She reaches down and digs her nails into one of the floorboards. It comes loose and she pulls it up, extending her hand into the space. A rattling sound emits from the hole. Shawn doesn't know whether to laugh or weep at the sight of the old war shackles. As Alice moves over with them, Shawn spots a gold bullet casing stuck in one of the chain links. It gets jostled as she walks, and begins to slip. Shawn quickly but subtly moves his legs enough to catch the bullet, preventing it from hitting the ground and making a noise. He moves back to his previous

position, but angles himself so that the bullet falls between his legs, muffled by the material of his jeans.  
His hands are bound by the old metal cuffs, which are then attached to a hook in the wall by a small length of chain.  
"Is that really as small as you could get it? He can still get around at least a couple metres." Alice complains.  
"And what do you expect him to do? Disappear by twitching?" Growls Griffin sarcastically.  
"What if he manages to break them and he makes a run for it next time we open the door?"  
"First of all, that's what the other doors and guns are for. Secondly, he has a bullet wound."  
"Since when does a shoulder injury affect your legs?" She asks, looking unconvinced.  
He sighs deeply and stands up. "Fine."  
He turns back to Shawn and looks down at his vulnerable extended legs. Shawn's eyes widen. He wouldn't.  
Griffin stamps on Shawn's left leg with all the sympathy of an elephant crushing a blade of grass. After a few impacts, the bone cracks loudly, echoing around the small dark cell. Shawn does nothing but lurch and whimper.  
Griffin looks back at Alice. "Satisfied?"  
She nods, her eyes glinting evilly. She motions to the door and Griffin moves to leave. Leaving herself, she glances back at Shawn with a small chuckle. "Be right back."  
The door grinds shut behind her, leaving Shawn in complete darkness. The adrenaline slowly vanishes, bringing the pain of the harsh injuries full force.

The doors of the police station are smashed open, the responsible figure moving through like a force of nature. Karen, Lassiter, Juliet and Gus all look up in shock as the door to the room is almost taken off it's hinges. "WHERE IS MY SON?!" Rages Henry Spencer.  
"Mr. Spencer -" Begins Karen, before being cut off.  
"AND YOU -!" He yells, pointing accusingly at Lassiter. "You were with him! You should have protected him! He's a civilian, unlike YOU, detective!" He says, emphasising the 'detective'.  
"Mr. Spencer, calm down!" Karen commands.  
"Do you want us to find Shawn or not?"  
Henry glares again at Lassiter before turning away. "How did this happen?"  
"I've got someone to ensure the connection with Shawn's phone stays open and they are listening for any sounds or movement. Our attempts at tracking the whereabouts of the phone have been so far unsuccessful. We have just received the security footage from the building they were coming out of when it happened. We were just about to review it, as these three were knocked out for most of it."  
They all gather around the screen as the footage begins. After a few seconds, the group emerges from the building, talking. They stop outside, just visible on the edge of the camera's view. The figure of Shawn throws his hands in the air.  
"He said he was sensing something. But... Then, he asked Lassiter what he would -"  
Lassiter interrupts Juliet in her explanation. "What I would do if I was shooting at someone and missed."  
"What did you say?" Questions Karen.  
"I'd keep shooting." He pauses. "Spencer said he 'thought as much' and that he was about to be in a lot of pain."  
Karen looks confused. "If he knew it was about to happen, why didn't he do anything?"  
"Don't you understand?" Interjects Henry, sadly. "He knew that if he tried to run, they would just keep trying. Which... Increases the chance of hitting someone else."  
"Are you saying that Shawn made himself an easy target so they wouldn't hit the others?" Karen asks, more determined and slightly... Proud.  
"That's exactly what I'm saying."  
Lassiter, Juliet and Gus all adopt the same expression. He could have just saved one, or all, of their lives.  
Karen plays the footage again. They see Shawn collapse and Henry visibly winces. He's almost immediately followed by Juliet and Gus. Lassiter remains standing for a few more seconds before also falling to the ground.  
Leaning in closer, they see Shawn struggle over to Lassiter. He reaches his hand to the unconscious figure's neck and his expression settles slightly.  
"He was checking you were okay." Sighs Juliet in surprised admiration.  
Lassiter stares at the screen, unsure of how he should feel.  
Shawn then tries to pull the gun from the holster, his hand almost immediately being stood on. Everyone in the room twitches in shock. "That's Griffin Mahoney!" Exclaims Gus, recognising the old man.  
Shawn successfully pulls his hand back and seemingly converses with the man. The man shakes his head and points his gun at Lassiter.  
"Whoa! Okay, so I definitely was NOT shot."  
"Shhh!"  
Shawn looks extremely panicked as he scrambles to look for something on the ground. He finds a large rock and throws it.  
Lassiter's jaw drops. His eyebrows shoot up when Shawn gets kicked in the stomach. He looks around to find everyone else with the same expression. Karen pauses it. "That'll explain the fractured ribs."  
Henry looks angry and yet understanding when he turns to Lassiter.  
Lassiter swallows. "He... Put himself in harm's way. He withstood more pain... To save my life."  
"You owe it to him to save his in return." Henry says, his voice low.  
Lassiter lowers his eyebrows, his eyes taking on a determined shine. The rest of them calm themselves before continuing. They all immediately wince when Shawn gets kicked again.  
The gun is pointed at him this time, but is interrupted by a woman appearing on screen.  
"Raylene Wilcroft!" Gus interrupts again.  
She kneels down next to Shawn, saying something to him. She pushes her thumb into the wound.  
Henry almost openly sobs and Gus puts a hand over his mouth, trying not to throw up.  
The police members in the room draw their attention to Shawn's expression at this point.  
"Has he actually vocally expressed his pain?" Juliet questions, staring at his face and gritted teeth.  
They all look at each other and silently commend Shawn's apparent tolerance to pain.  
The woman then moves quickly as she lets go, stands up and disappears from the camera's view. The man in the footage takes Shawn's arms roughly and drags him out of frame.  
Karen stops the footage.  
"I'm going to kill them." Henry mutters. "All of them."  
Gus blinks slowly. He takes a deep breath before his brain starts working. "Oh my God, where would they have taken him? What could they be doing to him right now? What if they're hurting him even more! They probably don't intend to let him go! They're gonna kill him!"  
"Gus!" Juliet snaps.  
He spins to look at her. Her eyes soften and she says gently. "We will find him. And he won't be..." She trails off.  
"He won't be dead. We are going to find him, and he will be alive. I'll make sure of that." Lassiter proclaimed, nodding his head in determination.

Shawn can't help but whimper as he tries to move. The broken bone sends pulses of excruciating pain through his body, meeting with the pain of the bullet wound and fighting for control. He carefully moves his uninjured leg, manipulating the gold bullet toward him. Picking it up, he squeezes it in the space between his wrist and the shackle, securing it. Once it's acceptably hidden, he turns his attention to the rest of the room. Having adjusted slightly to the dark, he looks for anything to help him. The chain attaching him to the wall was only around two metres long, which might have allowed for quite a bit of movement, if he didn't have a broken leg and a gunshot wound. As his hope slowly diminished, the door was opened. A streak of bright light burst through the gap, eliciting a wince from Shawn, his eyes squinting. Alice enters and closes the door slightly behind her. Still being able to see, with an intimidating amount of light, she strides toward Shawn. She kneels down next to him and sighs. "You know... You DID get in the way of my revenge. Which means that you deserve to be punished, too."  
She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a small pocket knife. She shrugs one shoulder. "It could be prettier." She admits. "But it could have been much worse. I at least made sure it was painfully sharp. This is going to hurt."  
She smirks as she brings the knife closer to him. "Now, where should we start?"  
She hums for a moment. "Let's test it first, shall we? Somewhere not quite as... Important." She scans him over, an almost hungry look in her eyes. She pauses on his shoes and pulls his colourful canvas trainers off. "Won't be needing those, will you?" She exposes his feet and leans toward them. Holding his right ankle with one of her hands, she holds the tip of the blade pressed against his heel. Cutting deep and curving upward across the arch of his foot, Alice laughs as the blood drips to the floor. Shawn scrunches his eyes closed. They fly back open a few moments later as he feels a sharp pain on his cheek. He can feel the warm blood oozing down his chin as he looks back at Alice.  
Her gaze is furious. "Don't you dare close your eyes. You need to witness each and every little thing I have in store for you." She squints at the wound on his cheek. "I didn't mean to make it that deep." Shrugging, she scans him over again. A few moments pass of her staring at his shirt before the corners of her mouth slowly twitch up into a grin. "I've just had the best idea."

She gently unbuttons his shirt. "So considerate of you to wear a shirt with buttons. That makes this a whole lot easier." Pushing the sides of his shirt away, she hums at his exposed chest. "So clear... Like a blank canvas." She leans in and begins her 'brush strokes'. "So, my idea. I was thinking of giving you something more... Lasting. Just in case you ever manage to get away, I wanted to leave my mark. Something that will not only bring you pain, speaking emotionally of course at the moment, but also anyone else who might see it. I'm thinking 'No one helped me'? Yes. That's good." She finishes 'writing' on him and admires her work. "It'll probably bleed too much to read some of it, but don't worry. It'll scar." She forcefully turns Shawn over and lifts the back of

his shirt. "I'm thinking a matching set. Make it even. It needs to link with the front... How about 'No one stopped this'? Ohh, yes! I like that." She writes the words slowly and deeply into his back, relishing in the pain it's sure to bring. After completing the sentence, she turns him back over and redoes his shirt buttons. "Wouldn't want the others seeing this, hm? This is our special fun."  
As she does up the last button, the door is pushed open slightly further. "Alice, you haven't -"  
"He's alive." She states.  
"Good. Now, move. I need to set everything up. It's time." Commands Raylene.  
The group of criminals light up the room dimly and bring in a small table, with a stack of papers and pens.  
"You are going to tell us how to break into this bank without getting caught. You're psychic. Think quickly." Raylene says, taking charge.  
Shawn's mouth is roughly released from the gag. He coughs slightly and clears his throat. "Are there blueprints?" He asks, his voice gravelly.  
She smiles. "Smart man."  
She rifles through the papers and spreads the document out on the table.  
He sighs, pushing down the pain. "Okay, here we go."

"We need to figure out what their plans are."  
Karen demands. "What are they plotting to do?"  
"If they took Shawn, and kept him alive, they must need him." Comments Juliet. "They must be planning to commit a crime, believing that they'll get away with it if Shawn plans it for them."  
"Like robbing a bank, or something?"  
"Maybe, yes!"  
Karen looks up from her computer. "I've just got a report from the Caldergate prison. Apparently they hadn't even noticed their absence until a few hours ago. We now have confirmation that there has, in fact, been an escape."  
"No, really?" Gus mumbles, sarcastically.  
Karen looks up at him before continuing. "They've reported four prisoners missing. Griffin Mahoney, Raylene Wilcroft, Alice Bundy and Robert Dunn."  
"Oh, God." Breathes Gus. "They're all capable of murder and they all... Hate Shawn."

Shawn puts the pen down.  
"It's perfect." Raylene grins. "No chance of getting caught. No holes."  
"There is just one more thing you could do to make it even more secure."  
She looks at him questioningly.  
"Take me with you. I can tell you if there are any problems around, if anything needs to change."  
"Fine, but you'll be chained up in the back of the van."  
He nods.  
Raylene looks around at her 'team'. "Alice can stay in the van."  
Shawn makes a disapproving noise. "It would be better if it were... Griffin. He's older and you need the fittest of you to succeed. No offence, big guy."  
Griffin seethes at him.  
"Okay, Griffin stays in the van." Raylene agrees easily. "So, we have to go soon then? No other time is acceptable?"  
Shawn nods again. "If the timing is off by any more than eight and a half minutes, it's over."  
"We'd best get ready, then."

Unbearable. That's what the pain was like when they started to haul him out to the van. Shawn gasped every time there was a change in movement, but he clenched his teeth. This was crucial to his plan for being rescued. Once he was in, they chained him to the inside as Raylene had said. The engine of the vehicle bursts into life and Shawn catches his breath before scanning around for his phone.  
Feeling it behind his back, he reaches for it painfully. He holds it up and listens.

"Chief, movement!" Exclaims an officer, coming into the room.  
Karen immediately presses a few buttons on her office phone and they hear fumbling before a small silence.  
"Shawn?" Asks Gus.

Shawn tries to answer, forgetting about the gag. He pulls it out. "Ugh." His voice is dry and crackly from dehydration. "Yeah. Sorry, forgot to remove that." He says in disgust.  
"Remove what?"  
Before he can answer, Lassiter growls. "They gagged him."  
"Can we move on to important things?" Shawn coughs.  
"This is important!" Disagrees Gus.  
"I think trying to get out is more important than what's been happening to me."  
There's a small silence before Shawn coughs again. "They're planning to rob a bank, but I guess you figured that out?"  
"How did you -?" Began Juliet, before nodding slightly. "Oh, right."  
Shawn smirks at his correct guess, but quickly grimaces. "And you already know who's here?"  
"Yeah. Griffin, Raylene, Alice and Robert."  
"Martin." Shawn interjects.  
"What?"  
"It's one of Robert's personalities."  
Gus's eyes widen in remembrance. "The violent one."  
Shawn is silent. In his reluctance to comment, he feels the van stop.  
"Stopping." He whispers into the mic, before hiding it behind his back again.  
The barrier between the front and back of the van is unlocked, and pulled open. Griffin stares menacingly back at him. "Just because I have to watch you, doesn't mean we have to talk. And you should know by now that, if you try to shout for help, I'll kill you." He says nonchalantly, as if it were a completely normal conversation. "Don't mind if I smoke, do you? Not that I would give a damn if you did."  
He takes out a cigarette from its box in his pocket, and a metal flip lighter. He rolls down the window and rests his arm on the sill, taking a puff.  
Shawn carefully removes the golden bullet from its hiding place between the shackle and his wrist, and holds it for a moment, waiting for his opportunity. He aims and throws the bullet out the open window, painfully reopening a lot of wounds. He coughs, covering up the sound of it hitting the ground. Griffin turns to him in annoyance. "Shut up."  
Shawn says nothing for the rest of the wait, trying to stifle his lurches and gasps, the blood of multiple openings warm and sticky all over him.

Raylene hastily pulls the door of the van open and clambers inside. She grins as she gestures to get going. "It went perfectly. No faults at all."  
Griffin looks at her. "Next one?"  
"Yes. We'll plan the next one tomorrow. Tonight, we celebrate!"

As soon as the call came in for the robbery, Lassiter, Juliet and Gus were already out the door. Henry and Karen wait in the office, keeping an eye on everything else.  
As they reach the bank, the manager greets them. "There isn't anything on the surveillance. Wiped. The van two of them arrived in was parked in that spot over there." He points.  
Lassiter doesn't even ask him anything, he just rushes over to the empty space. He scans around, determined. As he looks, his shoe hits something, knocking it away. He picks up the bullet and examines it.  
Juliet comes up behind him. "You find something?"  
Lassiter shows it to her. "A gold bullet. An old one. It looks like the type we would use for our reenactments." His eyes widen. "The ones Griffin sold us in his shop! Come on!" He rushes away back to the car, bringing out his phone to call it in.

Shawn is chained up in the small safe room again, being thrown mercilessly into the back. His vision blurs slightly as the pain bursts. He hears cheery voices as the door is bolted. A few minutes later, a singular angry voice joins them. The door is hastily unbolted. "- back of the van! He could have ruined everything!"  
Shawn sighs, resigning himself to his fate. He would be scared that they found his phone, obviously he's about to get hurt. Maybe even killed. But, his body is numb with pain already. It can't get much worse than this. Right?  
The door swings. Martin explodes into the room, immediately striking him. His nose cracks. Raylene pulls him back, holding him against the wall. "Martin, stop! What are you taking about?"  
The man holds up a mobile phone. "I found this in the back of the van! It's his goddamn phone! He's friends with the police, they're probably already on their way!"  
Raylene turns to Shawn. She smiles in disappointment. "I thought we had something going here. We could have made a lot of money." Her face turns to fury, looking like an enraged lunatic as she kicks him in the stomach, just as Griffin had.  
Shawn feels the bones of his ribs, threatening to break. He puts out his left hand, trying to stop, or at least soften, her harsh attacks. She stoops down and grabs his hand, bending two of his fingers backward until they also crack.  
She kicks him a few more times.  
"Raylene! Sirens!"  
Her face tightens in fear and she runs out of the room, the others following suit. They bolt the door after them and grab all the money they can carry. Reaching the door, Lassiter points his gun at them. "Where is he?" He questions. They don't answer. "WHERE IS SHAWN?!" He takes a step closer in anger.  
Police officers rush in, arresting each of the criminals. Lassiter, Juliet and Gus nod to Henry and Karen after all four were out of the building. They head in. They reach the safe door and take a collective breath. Lassiter unbolts it and yanks it open. Inching in, they all stand close together as they try to see in the pitch darkness.  
"We need some light in here!" Lassiter orders, sternly. "Medics!"  
The medical team were close behind, a stretcher already moving through the building. Two officers come in with a searchlight and set it in the corner of the room. They exit and hook it up to the power line.  
As the bright light surged on, the room was thrown out of darkness.


	2. Flatline

_AUTHOR NOTE :_

 _I hope you've enjoyed the story so far and, again, please let me know what you think via the reviews._

* * *

Everyone in viewing vicinity of Shawn froze in horror. The medical team were the first to act. They moved in with the stretcher and motioned for the officers to break the shackles. An officer with bolt cutters wanders forward and cuts them off, removing them from Shawn's wrist, his skin red.  
The medical team transfer Shawn onto the stretcher and lift it up. A groan escapes Shawn. "Are you sure you're trained professionals?" He croaks, his voice deathly.  
"Shawn! You're awake!" Exclaims Gus, shocked.  
"Unless I'm dreaming. Or dead." He jokes.  
The group follow as he's loaded into the ambulance. Each of them look over him, seeing too much blood to tell what injuries he had.  
"One of you can come in the ambulance with us. Decide quickly." Says one of the paramedics.  
"Lassie." Breathes Shawn, his voice muffling slightly. "Need t' talk t' you."  
Lassiter looks around at the rest of the group. They all begin to vault into cars. He quickly jumps in the back of the ambulance, and the paramedic shoves the door closed. The vehicle starts to move and the paramedic in the back commences to examine him. Lassiter awkwardly watches his progress before Shawn coughs out. "Hey, Lassie."  
He looks up at Shawn. "Hi, Spencer."  
Shawn's eyebrow twitches. He could have imagined it, but it sounded like there was gentleness and even a hint of worry in the detective's voice. He blinks.  
"Can you do something for me?"  
"What?" Lassiter asks, curious.  
"Let me talk to the doctor that's treating me before they do anything."  
Lassiter frowns. "They have to start right away, Spencer. You're not really -"  
Shawn interrupts him. "I'm fine -" He begins before Lassiter cuts him off instead.  
"No you are damn well not!"  
"I'm fine enough to talk to a doctor!" Shawn retorts, before the volume of the speech makes him cough.  
Lassiter lowers his eyebrows. "Fine, but why?"  
Shawn looks away, his eyes clouding slightly. He bites his lip. "I can't -"  
Lassiter nods, accepting his silence. "Why me? Why did you want me in here instead of, say, your dad or your best friend?"  
Shawn meets his eye again, his mouth twitching into a small smirk. "You were the only one who might say yes."  
Lassiter, despite himself, smiled faintly. It disappeared,

however, as his gaze wandered to Shawn's injuries.  
"Is your leg broken?"  
"Definitely."  
Lassiter winces. "Nose?"  
"Also yes."  
He sighs. "What else?"  
Shawn stares at him for a moment before looking away again. "The doctors will tell you."  
"We're here." Says the paramedic driving. Shawn is rushed in, Lassiter struggling to keep up. The rest of the group run behind, having followed the ambulance. Once they reach the hospital room assigned for him, nurses and doctors fuss around, connecting wires, grabbing supplies. Lassiter tries to get someone's attention to grant Shawn's request, but they ignore him. Shawn sees this.  
"STOP!" He shouts, the strength of his voice bringing everyone to a halt. He pants, trying to regain the breath he required for that exclamation. "Listen... To him."  
He points at Lassiter, and the main doctor focuses on him.  
Lassie whispers to him, feeling uncomfortable. "He would like to speak with you privately before you examine him." The doctor opens his mouth to retort, but Lassie stops him. "Not negotiable."  
The doctor sighs and tells everyone to leave. They comply, and Lassiter looks to Shawn. Shawn nods and he leaves.

Turning toward the doctor, Shawn gestures for him to come closer. The man leans in.  
"I have certain injuries that I would like to... Keep private. Okay?"  
"Which ones?"  
"The ones on my chest and back. Only tell those that need to know, and no one else. Please."  
The doctor nods. "I'll try my best. Can we help you now?"  
Shawn laughs a little. "Go ahead."  
The man leaves his side, and brings in a few more people. Seeing the group of people watching from the large window, he closes the curtains.  
"What's happening?" Demands Henry. "What's going on?"  
With no one answering him, he begins pacing. The curtain pulls free for a moment, but all they see is blood. The rest of them sit down on the hard plastic chairs, silently waiting.

The doctor exits the room, wearily looking at the group. They all rush up to him and stand expectantly.  
"The extent of his injuries are quite serious. Do you want to know what they are?"

Hesitating, they mumble their agreement and he continues.  
"I'll start with the less serious ones. He has a black eye and a few..." He pauses. "Or, rather, a couple slashes. On his cheek and foot. He also has two broken fingers on his left hand, a broken nose, broken leg, broken and fractured ribs and, of course, the bullet wound. The ribs have also punctured a lung."  
He looks like he wants to say something else, but just shifts indecisively.  
"There's something else, isn't there?" Asks Karen, putting on her authoritative voice. "What aren't you telling us?"  
He exhales. "He requested I not say, but, being his doctor, I would think this to be the type of situation that would not improve with isolation. It may even have a severe negative impact on his mental health, depending on what level of understanding and patience he receives from those around him. Assumedly, you."  
"So, what exactly are you saying?" Henry asks, confused. "What did they do to him?"  
The doctor pauses again. "I'm not going to betray his confidentiality completely, but ask him about his chest and back. I can't force him to tell you or show you, even if it is for his benefit. That's all I have to tell you." He turns to go, but glances back. "And, for God's sake, don't bring it up when he first talks to you."  
"Doctor?" Gus whispers timidly. "Can we stay in the room with him if we're really really quiet? We won't get in the way."  
The doctor's face immediately suggests refusal, but Lassiter cuts in before he can say anything. "What if I told you that we all have some sort of... connection with the police department? To be exact, this lady and I are detectives, this is the police chief, this man is a consultant and this man is not only a retired officer, but also your patient's father." Lassiter proclaimed, gesturing to each of the group. He also holds up his badge, just for good measure.  
The doctor's face softens after his initial surprise. "Okay. I'll have a few spare sofas and seats brought up for you."  
"Thank you."

A few minutes later, they were all seated comfortably in Shawn's hospital room. It was dark outside and the artifical lights brought a yellowish tint to the space. The small group whisper to themselves as they watch over their friend.  
"I can't believe all this happened in such a short time." Mutters Gus, staring at Shawn's unconscious face.  
"It's so weird seeing him like this... so still." Juliet comments.  
Lassiter taps his fingers on the arm of his chair before getting up. He moves over to the bed.  
"Carlton, what are you doing?" Karen asks.  
"Trying to figure out what they did..." He trails off.  
"The doctor gave us a list of -"  
"Yes, we know the end result, but I wanna know HOW they did it." He looks over Shawn. "We know that when he talked to us the first time, he obviously had the bullet wound, and we know how his ribs got fractured -"  
"He said 'possibly'." Interjects Juliet, going to stand with him. "I think he would have known if some were broken. They must have..."  
"...continued?" Finishes Gus, leaning forward in his seat.  
Juliet nods. She looks down. "His fingers probably got broken when he tried to reach for the gun."  
"I don't think so." Lassiter replies. "He used the same hand to throw that rock. He wouldn't have been able to if that were the case. They must have done that later, too. We didn't find out anything else from his second call, apart from the fact that they gagged him, so what else happened in between?"  
"The nose and black eye... someone was obviously punching him."  
"I bet it was Robert, or rather, Martin." Gus seethes.  
"How and why would they have broken his leg?" Ponders Juliet, looking at the cast that was visible.  
"I suppose... to keep him from running."  
As Lassiter says this, there's another small silence, followed by a small sigh from Juliet.  
"I wonder what they did to his chest and back...?"  
They look at the bandages covering his bare chest.  
Gus leans back again, a small twitch of a smile contrasting with the rest of his stressed features. "I think he's going to be most upset about his jeans." He jokes, referring to the left leg of the jeans that the doctors had to cut off most of to re-break his leg.

Shawn's eyebrows lowered slightly in his sleep, the haze of unconsciousness slowly lifting. His head turns on the pillow, creating a soft noise of movement. Juliet gestures to the rest of the room's occupants, catching their attention and pointing to the bed. They all quietly approach, leaving some room to avoid crowding him.  
"Shawn." Whispers Gus, timidly reaching out.  
He touches his shoulder. Shawn jolts in fright, eyes springing to a half-open point. The sudden movement triggers pain, and he gasps slightly. Gus immediately retracts his hand, whispering apologies.  
Shawn glances around the room and brings his hand to his head. He seems confused for a moment before the edge of his mouth twitches. "You did it without me. I'm impressed."  
"Without you?" Exclaims Juliet. "We would still be entirely clueless if it weren't for you."  
"I'm getting the doctor." Karen proclaims, heading to the door. "Good to see you awake, Spencer." She smiles before leaving.  
"Good to be awake." He sighs and looks down at himself. "Well, almost." He pauses. "Did somebody touch me?"  
Gus laughs. "That was me. Sorry."  
Shawn waves his hand and blinks the mist out of his vision. He looks around. His gaze falls on his father, who looks like he really wants to hug him, but is too unsure.  
"Dad -" Shawn begins, his arm rising a little.  
Henry takes the hint before it's even finished, and stoops to hug his son.  
"Ca- b-" Shawn mumbles. "Ca-'t br-th!"  
His father lets go apologetically.  
Seeing that he's okay with hugs, Gus then moves forward. After him, Juliet shyly but gently hugs him, too. Lassiter awkwardly stands back, unsure what Shawn expects from him, if anything.  
Shawn smiles and gestures to him, quietly saying, "Yes, you too, Lassie."  
Lassiter thinks about protesting, but, considering the situation, decides against it. He shuffles forward and half-hugs him with one arm. Before he pulls away, Shawn whispers. "Thank you."  
Lassiter resumes his earlier position as Karen re-enters the room with the doctor, who looks mildly confused.  
"You're awake?" He asks.  
"Unless I'm dreaming or dead." Shawn says with a smirk, referring to his own statement when they found him.  
That generates a buzz of laughter, and the doctor walks over. "It's just... the medication we used was supposed to keep you out for..." He looks at his watch. "At least another two hours."  
"What can I say?" Shawn says, shifting in the bed. "I have a high tolerance."  
Almost everyone in the room wonders if he means to the medication, or to pain.  
"Well, how are you feeling?" Asks the doctor. "Any specific pain that's more prominent than the rest? Any worrying effects you aren't sure about?"  
Shawn's polite smile twitches. His eyes flick to his friends and he shakes his head. "I feel fine."  
The doctor stares for a moment before leaning in slightly and whispering. "Someone in your position should not feel anywhere near fine. Not even positive in any way. I've had people in here with far less that scream in pain when they wake up."  
Shawn looks away.  
The doctor continues. "To quote a famous play, 'They think if they don't admit they're having the pain they can sort of escape the fact of it.' Right, Shawn?"  
Shawn smiles sadly, but instead of a 'you're right' type of smile, it's more of a 'you're totally and completely wrong.'  
The doctor frowns and looks around at the others, before turning back. "I've never had a patient like you, Shawn." He leans away, but asks under his breath. "You sure you don't need anything? Anything at all?" Shawn nods and the doctor makes his way out. "Okay. I'll be back to check on you later and we'll have a look at your injuries."  
As he leaves, Shawn renews his smile. "How long have you guys been here?"  
"Since yesterday night... ish." Gus answers.  
"And what time is it now?"  
He looks at his watch. "About six. Why?"  
"Have you guys eaten at all?"  
The group all look around uncertainly, glancing at their shoes or the floor.  
Shawn tuts at them. "Go and eat. All of you." He leans back, closing his eyes slightly. "I won't take no for an answer."  
The guys all hesitantly agree, their hunger presenting itself. They promise faintly to be back as quick as possible, and make their way to the cafeteria.

The sound of a door closing rouses Shawn from his reverie. He looks up, expecting to see a familiar face. He's right, but not in the way he thought. As his eyes connect with the man, his heart skips a beat in fright. The man takes a step forward and Shawn vaults out of the hospital bed, backing away. He tears the pads and wires off of himself, the heart monitor going flatline.  
"Rober -" Begins Shawn.  
He realises his mistake as it comes out of his mouth, but it's too late.  
"MY NAME IS NOT ROBERT!"  
Martin rushes forward and grabs Shawn's throat, pushing him against the wall. "Thought you could get away that easy, huh? We were always going to kill you at the end. I'm just glad it gets to be me that finally does it."  
Shawn struggles for breath, hearing nurses shouting from down the hall about his heart monitor.  
The pistol glints in the dim lights, sticking awkwardly in Martin's pocket.  
"The others will owe me big time. They'll reward me." He reaches for the gun.

The elevator chimes as they reach the appropriate floor. Exiting, the sound of shouting escalates. A nurse runs past them, down the hall. "- Flatline!"  
That's all they hear as her voice fades. A few seconds later, there's a shriek from the same nurse. "Security! A patient is being attacked!"  
Each of their blood runs cold. Without hesitation, they follow the chaos and reach Shawn's room. The door remains locked and the blinds are slightly open. They vaguely see a figure holding Shawn against the back wall, his face ghostly pale.  
Lassiter

pulls out his own weapon and braces himself. He kicks the door open.  
Martin spins Shawn around, holding him in front, the pistol aimed at his head.  
"Careful, detective." Martin breathes.  
"Let go of him!" Commands Lassiter. "I will not hesitate to shoot you!"  
"Oh, but, detective... You can't shoot me while I have him. And I'm not letting go until I'm out of here. So, are you gonna move?"  
Lassiter glares at him.  
Shawn, still unable to breathe, catches Lassiter's attention with his hand. He points with difficulty to the bottom of the gun.  
"Well, what's it gonna be?" Martin asks with impatience.  
Lassiter squints in concentration as he searches for what Shawn was hinting at. He almost smiles when he realises what it is.  
Shawn steps on Martin's foot and ducks down. He reacts quickly and hits him with the butt of the pistol. Shawn gasps, falling to the ground, one hand clutching his head.  
Martin curses and points the gun at Shawn. He pulls the trigger.  
...Nothing happens.  
Martin looks down in confusion as Lassiter steps forward and handcuffs him. Juliet slides further into the room.  
"Why didn't the gun go off?"  
Gus and Henry run past, toward the rasping, coughing figure on the floor.  
Shawn splutters, pushing away their helping hands. He curls up, greedily sucking in air.  
They back away slightly, waiting for him to calm down.  
Juliet takes Martin from Lassiter, keeping an eye and a gun on him. Lassiter crouches in front of Shawn and holds his hand out. Shawn glances, and reaches into his pocket. He hands the rectangular object to the detective and continues his panting.  
Lassiter takes the magazine and tucks it safely in his pocket. He looks back at Shawn. "Spencer?"  
Shawn wheezes and his gaze flicks to him, and away again.  
"Shawn." Lassiter tries again. "Breathe. It's okay."  
The nurse who was standing at the door moves forward with an air mask, and connects it to a tank next to the rest of the medical equipment. Lassiter takes it from her and holds it out to him.  
Shawn's eyes are almost fully closed as he leans against the wall. Lassie exhales and carefully grasps the back of his head, directing the mask over his nose and mouth. Shawn's eyes fly open at the contact, wincing.  
"Shawn." Lassiter says lowly.  
Shawn blinks at him, looking at him directly. His hand moves up and takes the mask. He brushes Lassiter away.  
After a few deep breaths, Shawn re-adjusts. "Martin -?" He croaks.  
"Don't worry. We got him." Juliet assures.  
Lassiter straightens. He looks down at his hands.  
"Blood?" He whispers, before gazing at the back of Shawn's head.  
"-What?-" Asks Shawn.  
Lassiter sees a red tint in Shawn's hair. Suddenly he remembers Martin hitting Shawn with the gun.  
"You could have a concussion."  
The nurse hesitantly moves forward, silently waiting for someone's permission to help. Shawn looks confused.  
"Your head is bleeding." Lassie explains. "Are you going to allow help now?"  
As if to answer, Shawn tries to pull himself to his feet. Multiple people step forward to assist him, but he holds up a hand. "Your willingness to help... renders me... breathless."  
He recieves blank stares from everyone.  
He coughs lightly. "Get it...? 'Cause, I was..." He gestures to the already visible bruises on his throat. "Okay. Nevermind."  
He sits on the bed, looking at the ground.  
"Only you, Shawn." Gus smiles. "Only you."  
Shawn holds his hand toward him, clenched loosely into a fist. Gus grins and gently fist bumps him.  
The nurse begins to patch up his head injury and Lassiter brings out his mobile.  
As soon as the call is answered, he angrily growls. "Why did no one bother to inform the arresting officers of the fact that one of the criminals GOT AWAY?! ... - DON'T GIVE ME THAT CRAP! He's here! Yes, we've got him. What the hell do you think you was here for?! Get someone over here right now!"  
He ends the call and turns to the room, where Shawn was back in the bed, and Gus and Henry were standing beside it.  
"O'Hara, take him down to the entrance. Someone is coming to get him."  
Karen moves to go. "I had better get back to the station and sort this out." She looks to Shawn. "I'm sorry for what's happened to you, Spencer. If you need anything, just call me."  
"See you, chief. 'Kidnappers beware.'"  
She grins at him, recalling the first time they spoke. "Safe to say your memory is okay, then?"  
Shawn nods and they leave.  
Henry finds his voice. "Son, are you okay? Do you need anything? Do you want me to bring you anything?"  
"There are a few things I might... -"  
"Yes. Yes? What would you like?" He asks eagerly.  
"Some shoes would be nice. One of my plaid shirts, my 'psych' mug, maybe. Um... -"  
"Oh, jeez! Shawn, we haven't even asked if you're hungry?" Gus interjects. "Thirsty? I could get you something?"  
"Am I allowed a smoothie?"  
"I'll ask. What flavour?"  
Shawn just gives him a look.  
"Right. Pineapple. Of course."  
Gus meanders out the door.  
"Anything else?" Henry asks.  
Shawn looks down at his legs. "Some jeans. Oh, and my PSP." He smiles.  
"You got it. Be back before you know it."  
He goes, too, leaving Shawn and Lassiter alone.  
"Shawn, what -"  
"Does anyone know what happened to my phone?" Interrupts Shawn.  
"I- I'll find out. Can I just -"  
"Good, I don't wanna have to get a new -"  
Shawn begins nervously, obviously avoiding any questions.  
"Shawn." Says Lassie evenly. Shawn quiets. "You don't even know what I was going to ask."  
"You always ask the most difficult questions." He mumbles.  
Lassie immediately dismisses his comment. "Tell me how everything happened."  
"Why? You know who they are, and you know the aftermath. What's the point in explaining?"  
"You're going to have to give a statement anyway. What you say will make a difference in each of their sentences. Might as well tell someone you know."  
Shawn silently picks at the bandages on his chest, feeling overwhelmingly self-consious. He frowns deeply.  
"Will it suffice to tell you a little bit?"  
"For now. Yes."  
Shawn stays silent for a few more moments, before beginning quietly.  
"You've seen the footage, so you know -"  
"How -"  
Shawn gives him a look.  
"So, you know what happened there. And the phone call will fill in a bit more. When the van stopped... Griffin gagged me and pulled me into the building. That's when I first saw Alice and Martin. Although, I accidently called him Robert -"  
"I thought you said you were gagged?"  
"It slipped. I accidentally called him Robert and he flipped. Punched me. That's where the black eye came from. They took me to the back room and there was a loose floorboard. In it was the shackles, but stuck in them was the gold bullet. It fell as Alice walked over. I caught it with my legs and hid it. Alice complained about the length of the chain being too long and how I might escape. Griffin... fixed it. By... crushing my leg."  
Shawn zones out, staring at the cast on said leg.  
Lassiter frowns. "Shawn?"  
Shawn blinks and refocuses. He exhales and shifts, seemingly uncomfortable and embarrassed.  
"Can that... be it for now?"  
"Of course." Lassiter agrees. He pauses. "Thanks for telling me."  
Shawn just nods distractedly as he plays with his broken fingers.  
"What are you doing?" Asks Lassie as he watches him in interest.  
"It feels funny." Shawn says, sounding like a child.  
Lassiter smiles in amusement. "That's called pain."  
Shawn rolls his eyes. "And I'm bored. I hate not moving."  
"Don't we know it. You'll be up and back to annoying everyone in no time."  
"Oh, good. My favourite pass-time. Detective distressing."  
Lassiter actually smiles, finding that funny. "That was pretty good." He mumbles.  
Shawn holds up a loosely clenched fist, looking at him hopefully.  
Lassiter shakes his head and Shawn's hand retracts. He pouts as Gus reappears with a see-through plastic cup, a logo visible on the side. A green curly straw pokes up through the hole in the top of the sealed lid.  
Shawn grins and takes it from him. "So, I am allowed it, then?"  
Gus's smile drops. "I forgot to ask. I'll -"  
"Too late." Shawn interrupts and takes a large gulp. He hums in satisfaction. "Oh, Gus. You know exactly how to make the day better. Even a curly straw." He takes another sip, not as desperate this time, and watches the colourful slush travelling through the straw.  
The two men watch him like two parents watching a child. "Hungry?" Gus asks. "I could get you churros?"  
Shawn's smile grows. "Could you get some for everyone?"  
Gus nods and leaves again.  
Shawn gestures to Lassiter. "Sorry, Lassie, did you want a sip?" He holds the cup out.  
Lassiter waves his hand. "No, no."  
Shawn glances out the door. "Could you go ask someone if I'm allowed all this stuff?"  
"Will it stop you?"  
"No." He says, sounding more like 'neuw'. "But I wanna know. Say it's theoretical."  
Lassiter disappears through the door and Shawn is alone. He waits for a moment, listening. He sets the cup on the bedside table.  
His hands tremble as he wraps them around himself. Groaning deeply, Shawn mutters to himself. "Jeez, you were right, doc. It's really hard not to scream." He evens out his breathing and tries to get comfortable. He looks at the medical equipment with mischief. "I could always increase the dosage..."  
Laughing at himself, he shakes his head. "But I would probably kill myself. And I like red vines too much."  
Hearing footsteps, Shawn relaxes. Lassiter comes back in.  
"Lassie! Remind me to ask someone for red vines later."  
Sitting down, Lassiter nods slightly, unquestioning. "They said it's fine. Just don't make yourself sick."  
Shawn smiles and picks his drink back up. "This can only make me feel better."  
A few minutes of silence pass.  
"I helped them break into a bank." Shawn says quietly, clutching his cup like a lifeline. He stares at it in nervousness. "I helped them steal all that money. Break the law..."  
Lassiter lowers his eyebrows. "Spencer. We got the money back. There was little to no damage done to the building or the people in it. But, you made sure of that, didn't you?"  
Shawn smiles guiltily. "How did you know I worked that in to the plan?"  
"You wouldn't have gone through with it if you hadn't."  
Shawn nods, wondering what he would have done if the plan required someone being harmed.  
"I convinced them to bring me in the van and have Griffin, the one that smokes, be my guard. He opened the window to smoke, and I threw the bullet out."  
"You always were very convincing." Lassiter mumbles. "That was a very good idea. I'm impressed you managed to think of all that in such a short time under all that stress."  
"Do my ears decieve me? Did you just say 'impressed'? By me? Can you say it again once I have a phone? Then I can set it as my ringtone."  
Lassiter shakes his head as Henry and Gus both arrive together.  
"I spoke to Juliet on the way here. She said she was going back with the Chief and doesn't know if or when she'll be back." Gus proclaims, handing a few churros to everyone.  
Henry sets a bag down next to the bed and goes to sit down, along with Gus. Lassiter looks at the food in his hand, and shrugs, taking a bite.  
"Fernando's?" Shawn questions Gus.  
"You know that's right." Gus mutters back, his mouth full.  
As everyone was finishing, the doctor comes back in. "Where's mine?" He laughs.  
"Next time, doc."  
"Counting on it." He smiles. "Are you ready for me to look over your wounds?"  
Shawn nods steadily and the doctor steps forward, before turning to the three other occupants. "Would you three make yourself scarce for a little while? Won't take long."  
They all rise and shuffle out the room.  
The doctor closes the curtains again and shuts the door. "So, have you told them?"  
"About what?" Shawn asks, feigning innocence.  
"Anything, everything. What happened to you or... your scars?"  
"No." He answers firmly. "I've told Lassie a few things, but... not that. I don't think I'll disclose that particular information."  
The doctor examines Shawn's broken bones and seperate injuries one by one.  
"I think you should."  
Shawn watches him as he works. "You told them something, didn't you?"  
The man's eyes meet his, looking guilty.  
"I didn't specify. I just said there was something, and you'd show them if you -"  
"You said I'd show them?!" Shawn exclaims in disbelief.  
"Or tell them! W-when you're ready!"  
Hanging his head, Shawn closes his eyes and mumbles. "They won't give up until they know what it is."  
There's a silence.  
"Sorry." The doctor apologises.  
Shawn looks back up. "It's okay. You were just doing what you thought was best, right?"  
A smile crosses the other man's face. "You know, Shawn, you're very wise and forgiving. It's a real virtue."  
"You're just saying that so I don't get mad again."  
The man laughs. "Maybe. So far, everything looks good. Well, not good, but better. Can I see the rest?" He asks, gesturing to the bandages on his torso.  
Shawn nods, and moves forward slightly. He turns himself sideways, his legs over the side of the bed.  
"You're able to move better than you generally should."  
Shawn doesn't answer, and just watches as the bandages are taken off. He looks away before the slashes are fully exposed, and resigns himself to staring at the wall behind the doctor's head.  
"Doesn't look like they should bleed again unless they're opened up. Healing over fairly nicely. I think we should keep the bandages off for a bit, let them get some air. Sound okay?"  
Shawn nods, teeth clenched.  
The doctor places the red stained bandages in the corner bin, and moves to leave. Once he's gone, Shawn jumps up and reaches for the bag his father brought in. Rifling through it and finding a shirt, he puts the bag back down and carefully pulls it on.  
He quickly buttons it up and leans back. The three men slowly re-enter the room and sit back down, talking about Hospital food. Shawn listens with little interest until the conversation is finished.  
"So, Shawn." Henry begins, spotting the bandages in the bin. "Everything okay? Healing alright?"  
"Yeah, dad." Answers Shawn simply. He stares down at his hands as he says this, and stutters as he continues. "D-Did you talk to mum?"  
His father lowers his eyebrows. "Yes, but don't change the subject. There are bandages in that bin that weren't there before and, as far as I can remember, the doctor didn't list any injuries that would cause that much blood."  
Shawn doesn't react, as if he hadn't even heard.  
"Shawn?"  
Loud, fast beeping attracts the three men's attentions, and they look to the source. The heart rate monitor was speeding up, the electrical signals spiking. Turning back to Shawn, he twitches before beginning to convulse.  
"Doctor! Nurse! Someone, we need help!" Yells Henry.  
Hospital staff almost immediately appear and clear them out of the room.

Henry paces in the hallway, worry and fear obvious on his face. Gus watches him. "I don't believe that just happened." He says in shock. "Right in front of us. He just..." He trails off.  
The doctor walks up and stops in front of them. He opens his mouth, but before he can say anything, Gus asks, "What was your name again, doc?".  
"Aaron Taylor." He answers gently. "Now. Shawn has just had a mild seizure -"  
"What?!" Exclaims Gus.  
This is followed by a cry of, "What caused it?" From Lassiter.  
Henry remains silent, waiting for the doctor to explain.  
"It was caused by a mix of the concussion, and slight brain hypoxia, which is when the brain is cut off from oxygen. This is obviously due to the earlier... strangulation. The seizure itself didn't cause any serious damage, and I'd say he'll be fine."  
"Will he have any more seizures?" Questions Henry.  
"We've done what we can to prevent any future episodes. Meaning, it's very unlikely this will happen again."  
"Can we go back in?"  
The doctor shakes his head. "This time I really must insist that you don't. He's asleep right now, and will be for at least another three hours. I suggest you all go home, but you're welcome to wait here if you wish."  
"Thank you, doctor."  
The doctor nods and roams away. None of them leave.

Shawn jolts awake, his eyes flickering open. He breathes heavily as he sits up. "Oh god." He mumbles to himself. "It's bad enough as it is, now I have to worry about nightmares, too?"  
He looks down at his shirt, and then glances up to the door on the other side of the room. The door that leads to a small bathroom.  
Getting up slowly from the bed, he presses a few buttons on the heart monitor, silencing it without setting off any warnings to staff. He stumbles

awkwardly through to the adjoining room and closes the door behind him. Looking up into the large mirror, he hesitantly takes off his shirt.  
Shawn exhales as his eyes connect with the red scars marked on his chest. The words are clearly distinguishable as he reads them over in his mind. Alice's voice resonates in his memory. 'Something that will not only bring you pain, speaking emotionally of course at the moment, but also anyone else who might see it.'  
He stares at the reflection. He doesn't want to bring anyone pain, especially his friends. Imagining their faces if he were to show them, he pulls his shirt back on. His gaze wanders to the rest of his image. He cringes, shocked at how terrible he looked.  
"I shouldn't be surprised." He voices aloud, sounding quiet and weak. "Been through a lot."  
Making his way back into his room, he slides in the bed and turns the monitor back on, just in time for Doctor Taylor to enter.  
"Shawn. You shouldn't be awake." Says the man, strolling over. "But I should know by now that you don't exactly follow the norm, hm?"  
Shawn smiles feebly, but then frowns. "Hey, doc? Should I show them? You know, my scars."  
Doctor Taylor sighs gently. "It would probably be better in the long run. 'Painful things can't always be avoided'."  
Shawn rolls his eyes. "You're a big fan of 'Cat on a Hot Tin Roof', aren't you?"  
He shrugs. "It was certainly... memorable. Anyway, it's your choice if you want to show them or not. All I'm going to say is that you need to have someone to confide in. They all seem to care about you, and it will be easier to deal with what's happened if they know the details."  
"But..." He whispers, his voice shakey and unsure. "What if they -"  
"Don't worry about how they react at the time. When people don't know how to feel, they tend to resort to emotions they are comfortable with. They may get angry, they may feel guilty. You can never anticipate what will happen until it happens."  
Shawn is quiet for a moment. "It's good to know that you were paid to do this before you became a doctor."  
Dr. Taylor tilts his head. "How did you know I used to be a therapist?"  
Shawn smiles. "Because you're good at it. I think you should go back to it, especially since you enjoy it more."  
"I would, but there isn't a lot of work up here. Money isn't really the problem, but there's so much spare time, I don't know what to do with it. I could try to find a hobby, but I wouldn't have a clue where to begin. Plus, I doubt anyone would want my services around here."  
Shawn blinks. "First of all, hobbies are easy. Just experiment, you're bound to find something you enjoy. Here's a start; you seem to enjoy reading, why not try writing? And secondly, I'm literally ready to hire you as my personal therapist right now."  
Dr. Taylor squints his eyes and answers in disbelief. "Really, Shawn? You can't be serious, we've only -"  
Shawn bends over the side of the bed and scrambles through the bag. He pops back up and scribbles on a small card with a pen. He holds it out.  
"My business card, with my cell number on the back. Although, I'm not sure how useful that will be depending on what happened to my phone. I've put Gus's on there, too. He's my partner." He pauses before clarifying. "BUSINESS partner."  
"Wow, Mr. Spencer -"  
"Shawn. Mr. Spencer is my dad. I must warn you now though, I would prefer our sessions to be held at my office. That way it's more comfortable and it's easier to distract you." He laughs.  
"So... you would be paying me to hang out with you?"  
"Essentially, yes."  
Dr Taylor exhales. "Why would you do that for me?"  
"Every so often, I will need to tell someone a secret, or a feeling I have, and who better to tell than a trained professional? Also, it might get the chief off my back a little if she knows I have a therapist to talk to."  
"So, we WOULD be talking seriously?"  
"Mainly, we'd play Nintendo, but sometimes, yes. We'd talk." Shawn admits.  
Dr. Taylor chuckles. "That sounds amazing, Shawn."  
"You don't have to decide right now. It's a big decision. Just think about it."  
The doctor continues his work, and begins to leave. "Can I tell your friends that they're allowed to come in?"  
Shawn nods hesitantly and looks down at his shaking hands.  
The doctor disappears and, a few minutes later, the three men wander in. They approach slowly and Shawn smiles at them.  
Gus leans forward. "Dude. That was terrifying. Are you okay? How do you feel?"  
Shawn sighs, tilting his head back on the pillow. He shrugs one shoulder.  
"You're probably tired, right? Do you want to sleep for a while?"  
"No!" He yells, remembering his earlier nightmare. They all look at him in confusion. "I just mean... I wanted to..." He racks his brain for a lie, a dismissal of some sort, but his thoughts are numb. Having no excuse, he squints his eyes shut in anticipation and whispers. "I wanted to tell you about what happened."  
He peeks at them and they give him encouraging looks. "Okay." He breathes.


	3. Missing something

_AUTHOR NOTE :_

 _The end chapter. Note that I do have a plan for a sequel but haven't gotten around to planning it yet. Let me know via the reviews if that would interest you at all, and how you feel about the end in general. If you are reading this, that probably means you've read the other chapters and have continued to be interested in the story. For that, I thank you greatly. Any support would be appreciated._

* * *

The first little while is Shawn repeating what he told Lassiter. The expressions in the room grow gradually more angry as Shawn continues. "So, after I threw the bullet out, they came out from the bank and took me back to Griffin's old shop. They were celebrating... until Martin found my phone in the van. Obviously, that changed things. He was so angry. He came in and punched me, breaking my nose. Raylene stopped him, but when he told her what he found, she was even angrier than him." He pauses, his eyes glazed over as he gets lost in his mind. "Started kicking me. Tried to defend myself. She broke my fingers... and my ribs. You showed up." He trails off.  
Part - way through the story, the three men had moved their seats closer, and sat respectfully. Shawn never once met their eyes as he painfully recalled his plight.  
They sit silently for a while, none of them sure what to say.  
"I'm so sorry, buddy." Gus whispers, his eyes shiny with unshed tears.  
Shawn still doesn't look up. "It's not your fault."  
"But, if I had -"  
"Gus." Shawn says sternly. "There's nothing you could have done. And, even if there was, it doesn't matter now. It happened."  
Gus nods sadly, silently agreeing.  
"You left something out." Henry comments. He was also holding back his emotions, mainly anger for those criminals. "There's something missing. The bandages..." He looks over to said bandages and then back to his son. "Please."  
Shawn blinks at his shaking hands, trying to stifle their trembling. He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. He swallows, trying to unblock the clog in his throat.  
Deciding his efforts to be futile, he slides out of the bed and stands as straight as he could manage. He moves over to the window. Facing away from them, he nervously undoes his shirt buttons.  
"Shawn?" Gus says, none of them being able to see what he's doing. "I don't think you should be up and -"  
His voice dies in his throat as Shawn spins around, his chest revealed. Shawn's eyes are tightly closed as he waits for them to read it, not wanting to see their reactions. He shrugs the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. He turns, showing them the rest of the 'set'.  
He leaves it for a few seconds before pulling it back on. Buttoning it up, he slides back into the bed, avoiding eye contact with any of them. There's a barrage of silence before Henry rises from his seat and shakily steps forward. He winces with anger before enveloping his son in a hug. Gus watches from his seat, openly sobbing. Tears run down his face as Henry lets go, but sits on the bed, with a hand around Shawn's shoulder.  
"W- Who did this? Which one?" He asks under his breath.  
Shawn's voice cracks as he whispers. "Alice."  
Henry nods, and slowly stands. He clenches his hands into fists as he walks toward the door.  
"Where are you going?" Gus sobs, pulling himself together long enough to form a sentence.  
"To kill the bitch."  
Lassiter jumps up from his previous unsure stillness and catches him by the arm. He whispers urgently. "Henry. Don't do anything you'd regret -"  
"I wouldn't regret this!"  
"Even when your son is recovering in hospital, having been emotionally traumatised, to find out his dad is in jail?"  
Henry freezes in his stride. He stops to consider this.  
Lassiter lowers the volume of his voice even more. "How do you think he's going to feel after he just showed us that and you go to break the law? He's going to blame himself for ruining your life. He'll be dealing with this situation without his father. Think about it, Henry."  
Henry looks at the floor, and turns back. He begins pacing at the back of the room as Lassiter also resumes his seat.

The row of cold cells is silent. The only sound is of a soft, repetitive tapping.  
"Are we alone?" Asks the deep voice.  
"Obviously." Comes a high, female reply.  
"We need to discuss our options."  
"There aren't really any, are there?" This voice is another female, but full of anger. "We failed. This is what I get for trying to plan a heist with clueless idiots."  
Raylene mutters the last part to herself.  
Griffin seethes. "Says you. You're the one that wanted to do whatever he wanted."  
Raylene laughs lightly. She opens her mouth, ready to retort, but is interrupted.  
"I don't care about what you're doing, " Begins Martin, gripping the bars tightly, his knuckles going white. "I'm going to kill that bastard if it's the last thing I do."  
"It probably will be." Answers Alice.  
"Then so be it." He says, decidedly.  
There's a small silence. Raylene mumbles. "What exactly happened when you got away?"  
"I went to the hospital to finish the job but he outsmarted me."  
"That's not hard to do."  
Says Raylene, before Alice adds. "You got outsmarted by an injured, traumatised kidnap victim?"  
Martin hits the cell wall in rage. "I don't know how the hell he did it, but he took the catridge right out of my gun without me noticing!"  
"He's smarter than we gave him credit for." Comments Griffin. "We underestimated him."  
"That must be his agenda for everyone he meets. He acts like he's stupid, so we think he is. When it gets serious, he's a genius."  
"All I know is, " Grunted Martin. "We have a very small window to escape."

Dr. Taylor strolls into the hospital room, a small card clutched in his hand. Without sensing the awkward silence, he asks. "You're psychic?"  
Shawn nods, smiling tiredly.  
"That makes so much sense!" He laughs.  
As the noise trails off, silence returns. He looks around, feeling the tension. "You uh... you showed them, didn't you?"  
Shawn nods again.  
Dr. Taylor hums for a second before putting the card back in his pocket and shimmying closer. "Might as well have a look while I'm here, no?"  
Shawn hesitates, but realises that he now has nothing (physical) to hide anymore. He nods once again. Dr. Taylor squints his eyes at the lack of vocals.  
"How do you feel now? Does your throat hurt?"  
Shawn shakes his head. The doctor exhales in a sort of amused huff. He looks to the three others. They all look curiously at Shawn, who hasn't made eye contact since the 'reveal'.  
Dr. Taylor takes Shawn's broken fingers and looks them over, examining the splint in detail. "So... have you read anything else by Williams?" There's a pause while he waits for an answer. Not receiving one, he continues. "'Streetcar Named Desire', perhaps?"  
Failing to get a response, he looks at the others. Gus clears his throat with confidence. "They're cancelling 'The Mentalist.'"  
"Bull-" Begins Shawn before his voice breaks and crackles, sounding dry and gravelly. He coughs lightly and he looks at his fist in confusion.  
"I knew it!" Says the doctor.  
Shawn slowly lowers his hand and attempts to hide it. Dr. Taylor raises an eyebrow in suspicion. "What are you doing?"  
Shawn bites his lip nervously as the doctor sees his hand. The man hums for a moment. "You really should have said something. You just can't catch a break, can you?"  
Henry's eyes widen. "What? What is it?"  
"Shawn has strained his throat to the point of damaging a blood vessel."  
"What does that mean?"  
"He's coughing up blood."  
"Oh, is that all?" Mumbles Lassie sarcastically, looking at the ground in worry.  
"I'm going to get him some meds for that." Assures the doctor, heading away.  
Shawn breathes shallowly, trying to avoid irritating his throat. He still stares down at the blankets. He reaches for a small notepad and pencil left on the bedside table for patients with trouble talking. He scribbles something down, the sound attracting the others. He turns it to face them.  
'They aren't really cancelling the mentalist, right?'  
Gus lets out a laugh. "No. They aren't."  
Shawn sighs in relief, leaning back slightly.  
"Why didn't you mention that your throat hurt?" Gus asks, frowning.  
Shawn rolls his eyes, looking away for a moment, before scribbling again. He flips it.  
'I didn't really notice at first. I only realised when the doctor came in.'  
"Why didn't you mention it at that point?" Questions Lassiter.  
He scribbles and turns it.  
'It didn't seem like a good time. It was really awkward in here.'  
He gives a wry smile as he presents the comment, enticing the others to laugh. They don't disappoint, as the room is filled with light laughter.  
"Yeah, I guess it was." Agrees Lassie, straightening his tie. "That's just because it's quiet without your voice threatening everyone's eardrums."  
Shawn opens his mouth in feigned shock, his eyebrows raised in insult. He scribbles on the paper once again, and turns it. 'Ouch.'  
Lassiter smiles in triumph as the other two laugh.  
Shawn shakes his head slowly, the edge of his lip tilted upward. He shifts and winces uncomfortably before exhaling.  
Lassie's smile drops slightly.

"Ohh, no you don't!" Exclaims Gus, pushing Shawn back onto the bed for the eleventh time in the past hour and a half. His hand remains on his shoulder.  
Shawn picks up the notepad and hastily scrawls. 'I'm so bored. I can't sit still any more.'  
"Well, that's too bad." Says Henry. "'Cause you're staying right there. You are a walking injury and you'll make it worse if you over do it."  
Shawn pouts, but leans back. He taps his nails on the pad before writing slowly. He hesitates before turning it. 'Do you guys really want to be here? There's not a whole lot you can do here, and someone will call you if anything happens.'  
"You're just saying that so we'll leave and you can sneak around." Lassiter smirks in suspicion.  
Shawn's eyebrows raise, and then lower slowly. He writes quickly and turns the paper. 'Actually, I was genuinly worried, but that would have been a good idea.'  
Lassiter shakes his head with a slight smile before Gus mumbles slightly. Everyone turns to him. He looks up and clarifies his thoughts.  
"It might be... easier for the hospital staff. And, Henry and I aren't supposed to be here anyway. You'll keep us posted, right Lassie?"  
Lassiter immediately nods. "Of course."  
Henry looks about to argue, but gets interrupted by a tapping. He looks to the noise, where Shawn is holding up the notepad again.  
'I'll be fine. Plus, you're stressing me out more than the injuries.'  
Henry involuntarily smiles and Shawn points at his father's mouth in triumph. He folds his arms in a way that says, 'you smiled, that means I win!'  
Rolling his eyes, Henry sighs. "Fine, but we're coming to see you as soon as they let visitors in tomorrow!"  
Shawn shrugs, agreeing.

An hour later, it's just Shawn and Lassie again. The room is mostly quiet, as Shawn draws aimlessly on the pad and shows the detective. After a while, Lassiter yawns, and pauses. "Are you tired?" He asks. "I haven't seen you sleep in a while. You should probably rest."  
Shawn shrugs, and writes. 'You look worse than I do. If you rest, I will, too. If I get tired.'  
Lassiter ponders for a moment, searching for any lies or avoidance. Too tired to find anything, he stretches out on the seating, closing his eyes in comfort. "That sounds, fair, I guess. You need anything, just throw something at me."  
Shawn grins in mischief, holding the pencil and notepad in the air, ready to catapult them.  
"If you throw anything without needing something... I still have my gun."  
The objects drop from Shawn's hands, his smile drooping into a scowl. He rolls his eyes and sighs in boredom. Leaning over the side of the bed, Shawn recovers his PSP from the bag and switches it on. He glances over at Lassie before turning his attention back to the small screen.

Lassiter is rather rudely awakened by a sharp pain on his nose. He grumbles and rubs his eyes, reaching for his gun jokingly. "What d'you want, Spencer?"  
He looks up to see Shawn pointing at him, then holding his hand to his ear in the shape of a phone.  
"You want to play charades at this time of the - What time IS it, anyway?" He mumbles the last part under his breath, not caring about the answer.  
Shawn stares at him in annoyance.  
"Fine." Lassiter breathes, sitting up. "You... want to call someone?"  
Shawn shakes his head and points at Lassiter.  
"Someone called me?"  
Shawn nods hurriedly and Lassiter reaches into his pocket. He brings out his phone, and presses a few buttons.  
"Hello?" He asks, roughly. "Yeah - huh. Hm. Okay." He ends the call and puts the phone back in his pocket, getting up from his chair. "I'll be back in a few minutes."  
Shawn watches as Lassie leaves. He turns back to the empty room. Blinking, he hears a gentle static. He scans the room and spots an object under Lassie's seat. His eyes glint in mischief at the police radio, happy to find something to do.

Passing through the door frame, Lassiter haults in his tracks at the sight of a familiar face. "McNab? What the hell are you doing here?"  
The young officer looks up from his sitting position. He smiles. "When they said they needed some people to stand watch for Shawn, I immediately volunteered. Thought I could see how he was doing at some point."  
Lassiter looks around the hallway. "Just you, huh? No one else want to -?"  
"That's the thing," Interrupts McNab. "So many of us did, we're taking shifts. The other guy who was with me just went for his break. Other than that, there are two officers in a car out front, and another two out back."  
Lassiter doesn't say anything to begin with, taken aback.  
"It's not just you that cares about him, you know." McNab proclaims.  
Lassie raises his eyebrows before continuing to the elevators. He steps off on the ground floor, where he's greeted with a peculiar scene. He wanders over to the rest of Shawn's friends and family, who were all struggling with different gifts for Shawn.  
"This is what you needed my help with?" Lassie asks in amused disbelief.  
"Oh good!" Exclaims Juliet, holding a large assortment of balloons. "We didn't have enough hands."  
"What is all this?"  
Juliet breathes guiltily. "I didn't know what to get, so I got everything."  
Lassie shakes his head and moves forward, helping everyone with their gifts.  
"How's Spencer?" Questions Karen, as Lassiter helps Gus with the assorted sweets.  
"He seems okay. But who knows with him. He could have a limb missing and he'd try to hide it."  
"And we'd probably not notice for a long time." Mutters Juliet sadly, before changing the subject. "Who's guarding his room right now?"  
"McNab."  
"Yeah?" Comes a voice from behind them.  
They look up to see the young officer smiling innocently.  
"What are you doing down here?" Demands Lassie. "Who's guarding him?"  
"Shawn wanted me to get him some tea." Explains McNab, holding up the beverage. "He said he'd be fine for a few minutes."  
"Shawn doesn't drink tea." Henry says loudly in confusion.  
Sirens meet their ears and rise in volume, coming to a stop in front of the hospital. Officers pour in.  
"What's going on?!" Yells Karen.  
A man walks up to her and says in a rushed tone. "They escaped again."  
"YOU ARE KIDDING ME!" Shout all of them in rage.  
A single gunshot rings through the hospital and everything is dropped to the ground.

As they reach the appropriate floor, laughter echoes down the hallway. It grows until they get to Shawn's room. Upon opening the door, the group find the four criminals all expressing their delight at the blood spattered walls and blankets. The officers slide through the frozen figures of Shawn's loved ones, forcibly pulling the lunatics from the room. As the sounds of struggle disappear, the floor is left with an eerie silence.  
"Where do they keep getting those guns from?" Says a quiet, annoyed voice from the door. The group all spin round at the sound of

the thought-to-be-deceased. "SHAWN!" They scream in shock.  
"Freaky." He mumbles. "You all said that totally in sync."  
"Wha-" Begins Lassiter. "How- ...What did you do?"  
Shawn shuffles over to the bed, sipping a juice carton of some kind, which seemingly appeared out of nowhere. He pulls the bedsheet back, revealing a few pillows and a blood pack.  
"Bed dummy and some blood. Easy."  
"Why didn't you tell us you weren't dead?!" Juliet asks.  
"I needed THEM to think I was dead. That's the whole point."  
Gus points at him, impressed. "You... are a psychopath."  
Shawn shrugs, leaning on the clean edge of the bed. "I try."  
Doctor Taylor rushes into the room in fear. "Shawn, are you-" He cuts himself off as he sees the room. "What the hell?"  
"Hey, doc." Shawn greets, waving slightly. "So, what I-"  
"Where did you get that blood pack?" Asks the doctor.  
Shawn shows them his arm, where he has ripped out his IV, and then points to the medical equipment next to the bed, where the pack was missing.  
"It was yours?!" The doctor exclaims. "Do you know how important it was for you?"  
Shawn shrugs and puts his juice carton on a table next to the bed.  
Doctor Taylor watches him worriedly from the doorway. "How long have you been without it? How long have you been walking around?"  
He shrugs again before looking at the ground, his eyebrows scrunching together.  
"How did you know they were coming?" Lassie asks suddenly.  
Shawn pulls out the police radio guiltily, immediately holding it forward. "You must have dropped it while you were asleep or something."  
Lassie takes it from him without saying anything, attaching it to his belt.  
The doctor, still eyeing Shawn warily, squints his eyes slightly in realisation. "So, your throat feels better then?" He questions sarcastically, knowing what the correct answer is.  
Shawn hesitates before nodding.  
Doctor Taylor tilts his head in an unconvinced manner, crossing his arms.  
Standing straight, Shawn opens his mouth, but then immediately closes it as a sliver of blood drips from the corner of his lips. He frowns before promptly collapsing. Doctor Taylor expertly catches him and helps him sit back on the bed. After checking to see if Shawn was conscious, he excuses himself to get another blood pack, exiting the room in a run.  
A groan escapes Shawn. He holds his head in his hands and leans his elbows on his knees, massaging his temples with irritation.  
"Are you okay?" Asks Juliet.  
He mumbles incoherently.  
"What?" She presses gently.  
"Are YOU okay?" He says again, lifting his head slightly to look at them all.  
She pauses before answering. "I'm not the one collapsing and coughing up blood."  
He looks away again with a quiet chuckle.  
Doctor Taylor appears again, clutching a blood pack. "Okay..." He sighs, putting the pack in its place and holding out a hand for Shawn's arm. "No more funny business, right? You're gonna do what's best from now on?"  
Shawn surrenders his limb, watching as the wire is connected back into his skin.  
"I wouldn't bet on it, doctor." Answers Henry. "He's like a hyper six-year-old with ADHD."  
Doctor Taylor laughs as he finishes what he's doing and watches Shawn get back into the bed after the sheets were replaced. He looks around. "I'm gonna get someone to come and clean all this up."  
"Sorry." Mutters Shawn, staring at the ceiling.  
The doctor looks taken aback. "No, no. What you did was smart and amazing. It was worth a blood pack."  
Shawn smiles slightly.  
"And don't talk!" He scolds. "You caused yourself enough damage."  
Shawn shrugs as the doctor exits the room.  
Gus's eyes widen, and he looks to Juliet. "Um, Juliet... Are we gonna-?"  
She gasps as she realises what he's talking about, and sprints away.  
"We should probably help her." Says Lassiter, before turning to Shawn. "We'll be right back. Don't get shot, okay?"  
Shawn just looks at him and they all leave. A few seconds later, a familiar tall officer slides in, guilt obvious on his face.  
"Shawn?" He begins nervously.  
Shawn's gaze falls on him. He smiles at the officer and gestures to the notepad and pencil on one of the seats.  
McNab shuffles over, picking up the objects. "You... can't speak?"  
Shawn takes them from him, shaking his head. He writes on the page and turns it.  
'I wasn't supposed to talk at all. Whoops.'  
McNab smiles before frowning again. "Look, Shawn. I'm really sorry for-"  
Shawn holds up his hand, silencing the young man. He writes. 'You didn't do anything wrong. Just what I told you. Don't worry about it.'  
"But-" He begins again, but is cut off by Shawn pulling him into a hug.  
McNab blinks before smiling and returning the gesture. He pulls away. "So, we're good, then?"  
Shawn scrawls happily. 'We never weren't.'  
McNab sits on the edge of the bed, near his feet. "You don't even like tea."  
Shawn grins, looking down.  
"Well..." Buzz sighs. "I'd better get back to my post. Another hug before I go?"  
Raising his arms in acceptance, Shawn waits for his friend to move forward. The distance is closed.  
"Whoa!" Comes Lassiter's voice from the doorway. "Not really what I expected to find in here, but sure. Whatever."  
The others file in with gifts, breaking up the hug and enticing Buzz to leave with a quiet, "Bye."  
Shawn stares around at them, his mouth ever so slightly open, unsure of what to do. He waits for someone to explain.  
Juliet clears her throat. "I wasn't sure what you'd like..." She gestures to all the objects.  
Shaking his head and looking down at his hands with a smile, Shawn wonders what he did to get these amazing friends. He pauses before writing gingerly. He shows it to her. 'Thanks, Jules.' This sits next to a neatly drawn smiley face.  
Juliet smirks in delight, pleased with her success.  
Gus sits loudly in a seat, putting his feet up, still clutching a single sweet box. "Due to all the stress you put me through, I'm sure you won't mind if I help myself, right?" He says, tearing it open.  
"Gus!" Exclaims Juliet, taking a step forward to intervene.  
"What about me, I stayed here the longest!" Lassiter complains, also reaching for the box.  
"Carlton!" She shrieks.  
Shawn says nothing, just tilts his head back on his pillows, smiling. His eyes gently close.

The key turns in the lock, clicking. It is then retracted, before the door is opened. "You do realise I'm coming over here every single day to check up on you, right?" Comes Henry's voice as he helps his son into the apartment.  
"Yes, dad." Sighs Shawn, looking back at Gus in anguish. His voice remains weak and slightly crackly, but audible.  
Gus laughs. "So will I, you know!"  
Lassiter and Juliet enter after them, standing near the door.  
Henry lets go of Shawn and moves toward the kitchen, announcing his intention of making a warm drink.  
Gus busies himself with the television remote as Juliet mumbles. "It's much tidier than the last time I saw it. Well, the ONLY time I saw it."  
Shawn nods distractedly. "That was a bad time for me." He limps around before reaching the door to the bedroom. He stares at the bed.  
Alice's voice whispers slightly.  
"Hey," He begins, turning to the others. "Could you maybe..."  
"You want us to leave?" Juliet guesses, pointing to the door.  
Shawn's eyes widen. "No. I wanted to ask if you could... stay for a little while?" The sentence gets quieter as he goes on, his confidence slowly vanishing. "Maybe watch some movies, or... something?"  
Gus smiles. "I'd be up for that!"  
"I'm staying anyway, so might as well!" Shouts Henry from the kitchen.  
Lassiter and Juliet look at each other, silently agreeing. They both nod.  
Shawn's eyes light up as he moves toward the TV and sits directly in front of it, turning on the DVD player. The two detectives find seats and make themselves comfortable.  
Shawn grins in mischief as he scans his film collection. "Can I pick the movies?"  
They all agree.  
"Promise you'll stay?" He continues.  
Unsure looks are shared between the inhabitants, dreading the outcome. They hesitantly agree once more.  
"Disney movies it is!" He whoops in glee.  
There's a simultaneous groan as Shawn puts on the first film. He laughs to himself and makes a cushion matress on the floor, childish excitement radiating from him.  
Henry returns from the kitchen, a mug in his hand. Seeing the screen, he sighs. "This is gonna be a long night."  
Shawn looks up at his father, his mind drifting to the bed in the other room. Dread settles in his stomach. 'Long night?,' He thinks. 'I hope so.'


End file.
